


Vigil

by trascendenza



Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"They say that one can find peace in a place such as this."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Vigil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Falco](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Falco).



_"If Godric is gone, nothing will bring back what I have lost."  
\-- Eric_

*

"Why do you keep coming here?" Eric asked, appearing at Godric's back. The moonlight barely caught the hues of the stained glass, but what little filtered through seemed almost bright on the pale canvas of Godric's cheek. His hair was tied in a long braid that fell to his mid-back, the color hardly distinguishable from the dark robes he was wearing.

Godric looked at him, showing no surprise that Eric had found him. "They say that one can find peace in a place such as this."

"'They' being humans." Eric leaned against the side of the pew, crossing his legs at the ankles and slipping his hands into his pockets. "I make it a habit not to take them too seriously."

"It was my mistake to teach you that." Godric said. "I have made many mistakes."

Eric's entire body shifted on its axis towards Godric as if magnetically drawn, a movement so unconscious it may as well have been the autonomic reflex of lapping blood from an open wound. "Godric," he said, quietly, kneeling.

"For whom do you suppose they burn?" Godric asked, gesturing towards the altar. The flames of small white candles flickered in the drafty current that blew through the cavernous building.

Eric, eyes intent on Godric, did not look. "For no one."

"Perhaps, in burning for none, they burn for us all."

"Not for me," Eric said.

Godric placed a hand on Eric's cheek, smiling softly. "Perhaps most especially for you."

*

Godric, though he could have read the book merely by flipping through it, patiently turned another page. "What do you make of prayer, my child?" He asked idly, not looking up from the text.

"Prayer?" Eric repeated, petting the human at his feet. She was large, plush, half-asleep from his feeding, head lolling on the arm of the chair. Her skin was exceptionally soft. "A self-delusional refuge of the weak."

"And what other refuges are there?" Godric asked, making a few notations on the loose-leafed papers he had spread out neatly on the desk, using the antiquated quill as fluidly as if it were a fountain pen.

"I can think of many," Eric said, smiling suggestively, fingers curling possessively around the human's neck. "Each would put the mortal concept of rapture to shame, I can assure you of that."

"Hmm," Godric said, turning another page. Eric watched him for a few more moments, but when no further questions were forthcoming, he pulled the human into his lap and opened the fresh veins on her other side -- for symmetry. She moaned wantonly and went boneless in his arms.

Logs crackled in the roaring fireplace, sparks flying. Godric had started ordering it stoked every night, though they did not need the warmth nor the illumination. Shadows danced on the walls.

"I cannot help but wonder where the spirit goes to find the sanctuary that our kind finds in blood," Godric murmured, mostly to himself, staring into the flames.

*

"You're obsessed!" Eric roared, tension coiled tight like he was a predator backed into a corner and itching to lash out. He swept an arm across the nearest bookshelf, scattering the books across the floor. He kept going, shelf after shelf, until it looked like the detritus after a bombing, half-torn pages littering the carpet.

"Eric," Godric started, stepping forward, his hand half-raised in a placating motion.

"No," Eric said, low and strained. "Not this time. Pam nearly --" His voice broke.

"I did not intend for her to come to any harm," Godric said, dropped his hand, regret lacing his words. "I will, of course, give her my blood when she wakes."

Eric sighed. He stepped forward, placing his hands on Godric's shoulders. "You don't just forget to come in before dawn," he whispered.

Godric looked up at him, silently, his face hiding nothing. It was Eric who looked away first.

*

"I had a feeling I would find you here." Godric was in the same pew, hands folded in his lap, clad in the white linen he'd taken to wearing the past few centuries. The stones smelled older and the candles burned more cleanly, but the stained glass remained the same, and Godric looked at the statuary liked he'd never actually moved from this spot since the first time, all those years ago.

"In this, you were correct."

"Dawn approaches. The car's waiting." Eric said, then he smiled a little. "Unless you were planning on sleeping with the ill-preserved human remains out back?"

Godric arched a brow. "What do you think?"

"Good," Eric said, ushering Godric out of the pew. "Let's go home."

Godric stood, staring at the altar for a long time. "I am trying," he said, softly.

*

"I grow weary." Godric said, staring out over the skyline like it was the altar and he was the supplicant, come to beg mercy. "I have carried the name Death long enough."

"But you are the one who gave me _life_," Eric said.

Godric's smile was sad. "I hope you make better use of it than I did."

"It was one mistake, we'll clean up the mess, we'll find you a new territory that isn't full of fucking imbeciles --"

"Not this time." Godric gestured to the east, to the horizon almost imperceptibly beginning to lighten, and his eyes were already far away, like he was just waiting for the rest of his body to catch up and join him out there. "This time, Eric, it will burn for me."

*

The stones had long since crumbled, their jagged edges rounded off by the patient and persistent application of seasonal storms and the gently eroding caress of oxygen. There were no records that recalled what this place was named, no plaques or memorials honoring its memory. Various graves, their script lost in the passage of time, held bodies long since turned to dust and silt. The world was a different place and most of the old ways, once held together by places like this, had been abandoned. No one came here to pay their respects, anymore, except for someone who had left out a pair of thousand year-old candles, their flames flickering in the breeze.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Vigil [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794794) by [tinypinkmouse_podfic (tinypinkmouse)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypinkmouse/pseuds/tinypinkmouse_podfic)




End file.
